


when winter turns to spring

by waveridden



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Boston Flowers (Blaseball Team), Other, takes place mostly in seasons 6-7 and epilogue is in season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26800471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveridden/pseuds/waveridden
Summary: “I could be a deputy or something,” Nic says. "I can be in charge when you’re not there. Temporarily.”Margarito looks at him flatly. “Temporarily?”“Temporarily. Sometimes.”A study on knowing what's next, knowing what you want, knowing when to let go, and knowing when to hold on tight.
Relationships: Margarito Nava & Beck Whitney & Nic Winkler, Margarito Nava/Nic Winkler
Comments: 16
Kudos: 24
Collections: No Single Flower Wilted





	when winter turns to spring

**Author's Note:**

> Decided I wanted to tell a Blaseball love story, so here we are. Obligatory disclaimer that I'm a Sunbeams fan so lots of this is secondhand. All my love to Tam, for helping tweak things and answering questions about both sports and splorts.
> 
> Worth noting: I portray Nic's disability differently than it appears on the wiki. Here, his disability doesn't give him a superpower, because that's a problematic trope. Instead, he's hard of hearing in both ears and uses hearing aids. Sometimes the microphone affects the hearing aids, so he's more sensitive to weather events, but never in any meaningful/helpful way. That's the only major break from fanon here.
> 
> Content warnings: non-detailed description of incineration/blooddrain, and they get drunk a couple times.

So there’s this joke about Hurley Pacheco getting incinerated.

Technically it’s about Nic, but he never liked it, and he likes to remind people that it’s not that funny. But anyways, the joke goes like this: Hurley gets incinerated, and Nic jumps on the field and picks up their bat and keeps playing. Afterwards someone from BNN comes up to him and says, man, that’s amazing, welcome to the Flowers, how were you ready to play so fast?

And Nic says, without really thinking about it, “I heard it coming.”

It goes viral - well, as viral as anything can with the blaseball news cycle. They call him the miracle man, the man who was ready for the impossible, the man who saw his chance and took it. He’s the man who can see it coming, they all say.

Beck actually asked him that day. Nobody knows that part of the story, but she took him aside after his first game and said, “Could you really hear it coming?”

“Sort of,” Nic answered, because he didn’t know how to explain.

“Can you do it again?” Beck said, eyes serious. It was the first time a Flowers player got incinerated. They both knew that it wouldn’t be the last.

Nic shook his head. “Not in a way that matters.”

Beck just nodded. “Welcome to the team,” she said. It took him a couple months of hindsight to realize that she was upset. Not upset with him or anything, just upset.

The rumors fly, because of course they do. They say he can hear pitches coming, and he lets it slide because it’s pretty funny. They say he hears the heckling twice as well, and he lets it slide because when he’s at bat he doesn’t hear much of anything. They say he can hear incinerations coming, and-

And that one bothers him, actually.

People say that the Flowers are cursed. Nic gets it - it definitely feels like a curse when they lose three players in a week, when they have the most incinerations out of any team - but he still feels lucky. He has friends here. He has a good team. They’re not necessarily having a fantastic time, but they’re making it work.

Then they lose Beck in the feedback, and it all goes to hell.

#

The day they lose Beck, Nic ends up at Margarito’s apartment. Both of them are straining to understand all of Beck’s strategy notes - for all the work that woman put into everything she did, Nic would’ve hoped that she had handwriting that was at least a _little_ bit legible - when Margo says, “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah,” Nic says, squinting at a paper. “Does this say Caligula or Castillo?”

“Who knows,” Margo mutters. “How curvy is the third letter?”

“It really could go either way.”

“Lemme see.” Xe leans in over Nic’s shoulder and stares for a few long seconds. “I’ve got nothing. How did we survive this long with her as captain?”

Nic laughs, because he knows Margo’s real question is _how are we going to survive without her?_ And neither of them know the answer, of course they don’t, but he says, “It’s because all of us just assumed she knew what she was doing, and none of us bothered trying to read her notes before now.”

“And now we’re up a creek without a captain.” Margarito settles back in xir seat. There’s a look on xir face that Nic can’t interpret, somewhere between grim and anxious. “We might need to do something about that.”

“You think Fox is gonna take over?”

“I think it would be hard to do that. You know, come in and be in charge of a team you just joined.”

“Yeah, but better her than me,” Nic says, and grins at Margo. Margo doesn’t grin back. “What?”

“Well,” Margo says. Nic can immediately tell, with his almost supernatural knowledge of the facial expressions people have when they look at him, that he’s said something wrong. “I was thinking about going for captain.”

“Oh,” Nic says, kind of lamely. It makes sense: Margo has that restaurant, and xe’s incredibly smart, and their handwriting is kind of nice to look at. “I think you’d be good at it.”

“But I don’t want to do it by myself,” Margo continues, and Nic realizes that xir eyes are fixed on a point sort of past Nic’s shoulder, so xe’s not actually looking him in the eyes. “So I was going to ask you to… you know.”

Yep, Nic said something wrong.

“I don’t think I’d be a good co-captain,” Nic says. He’s aiming for casual but he definitely lands somewhere in the vicinity of blunt. “I’m not, uh…”

“Don’t say you’re not good with people,” Margo says dryly.

Nic snorts. “Nah, I’d be the people-person half of our particular odd couple. I’m just not a strategy guy, you know that. Ask Cerna, ze’s got an eye for that sort of thing.”

“Maybe,” Margo answers. Xe’s still not quite looking at Nic.

And Nic wouldn’t be a good captain. He knows that. His family also had a restaurant when he was growing up, but unlike Margo, he’s not still involved with it. And he definitely doesn’t run it. Nic has many great things about him, but that doesn’t include leadership skills. Some people just shouldn’t be in charge of things, and the dishwasher incident at the bar proves that he’s one of those people.

Except Margo is disappointed. And apparently, on Nic’s list of rules, “don’t disappoint Margo” is a little bit higher than “don’t be in charge of things.”

“I could be a deputy or something, though,” he says, before he’s fully thought it through. Margo’s eyes snap to Nic’s face, and he shrugs. “It could- I mean, I’m not going to be in charge.”

“You’ve made that clear, yeah,” Margo says flatly.

“Hey, a guy has to know his limits. But I can… you know, be the person who’s in charge when you’re not there. Temporarily.”

“Temporarily?”

“Sometimes.”

“Temporarily, sometimes.” Margo smiles, and for some reason Nic is relieved. “Yeah, okay. We’ll talk to the team in the morning.”

“If someone else wants to be captain-”

“I’ll beat ‘em in a fight and claim it for myself,” Margo finishes, and it’s one in the morning, and xe sounds so sure of xirself, and it’s been a really long, really bad day. And all of that is why Nic laughs so hard he cries, right there at Margarito’s kitchen table.

#

Okay, so, backtracking a little bit:

Nic can’t hear incinerations coming. At least, not always. It kind of depends on the umpire. By the time he’s at Hurley’s game, he’s watched plenty of games on TV, and plenty of incinerations. So he’s noticed that they do it differently. Some of them just look at a player and they go up in smoke. Some of them like to touch the players, have some kind of physical contact.

And sometimes, umpires light up a fireball and throw it. Unfortunately, Hurley got fireballed. But fortunately - or at least, semi-fortunately - Nic knows the sound of fireballs.

He finally cracked and told Beck all of this about a year after he joined the team. She arched an eyebrow and said, “I thought you said you couldn’t hear it.”

“I said I could sort of hear it.”

“Can you tell every time?”

“No, Whitney, I just said-”

“Nic,” Beck said, and something in her face made him stop. “Can you show me?”

He tried. He pulled up the handful of clips that had the right sound, and he tried to point it out when it happened. He tried to describe it, to isolate sound bites, to show her over and over and over.

None of the Flowers ever get incinerated by a fireball again. Which is really for the best, because he could never find a way to teach Beck the sound.

It’s kind of frustrating, Nic thinks. Being able to tell just a fraction of a time that something’s about to go wrong. Never having that fraction be when he can do something about it.

#

As soon as the Flowers hit party time, Nic and Margo are on the first plane to Miami.

Well, okay, the whole team wanted to go to surprise Beck, but most of them wanted to go back to Boston for a little while first. Which Nic gets, but he and Margo have captain-and-deputy stuff to discuss with her, so they go right away.

It’s a quiet flight. Nobody recognizes them, which is a relief. Nic turns off his hearing aids and takes a nap on the plane, because it’s been a long few days in a long season and he’s not in the mood to get interrupted.

He wakes up to Margo poking him in the arm. When he opens his eyes blearily, xe signs, “We’re landing.”

“Yeah, alright,” Nic yawns. He’s not ready to turn his hearing aids back on, but it’s a good thing Margo can - wait. “You don’t know sign language.”

Margo says something that Nic doesn’t catch, although he’s sure it’s cutting and sarcastic. He just lifts an eyebrow, and Margo immediately looks embarrassed. Xe holds up a finger and flips to a new page in xir strategy notebook. Xe scribbles something and then holds up the notebook.

_Looked it up so I could let you know right away._

Nic grins. “That’s nice,” he says, a little bit teasing. Margo just glares at him. “I’ll turn ‘em back on in a minute. If we have to evacuate, don’t let me catch on fire or whatever.”

His lip reading isn’t great, and he still can’t hear clearly. But he can tell, with total certainty, that Margo answers, “Never.”

They get a cab to their hotel, because Margo insisted that Beck probably wanted a break from the Dale’s yacht, so xe booked a hotel. And then, speak of the devil herself, Beck calls Margo as they’re checking in. Xe passes xir phone off to Nic so xe can finish, so Nic answers it. “Margarito Nava’s phone, you’ve got Nic.”

“Oh good, you’re together,” Beck says. “Where are you guys?”

Nic blinks. “Who ruined the surprise?”

“What surprise? I’m visiting you guys.”

“What do you mean you’re visiting us?”

“In Boston?” Beck says, confused. “Because the season ended? I’m with the whole team right now, where are you and Margo?”

Nic winces. He glances at Margo, turns down the volume on the phone, turns down the volume on his hearing aid, and says, “Uh, Miami.”

“What?” Beck shouts, loudly enough that Margo turns and looks at the phone. Nic makes a face and motions at xir to finish checking them in. “Why are you in Miami?”

“Because we were going to surprise you?”

“You can’t do that, I was going to surprise you!”

“You surprised everyone else.”

“Nic-”

“Beck, don’t worry about it,” Nic says. He’s trying to sound soothing, but Beck goes deathly quiet, which probably means he misstepped. Uh-oh. “It’s just a plane ride away, we can come back tomorrow-”

“No, don’t, I can just fly back out-”

“You should see the whole team-”

“-you came all this way to see me-”

“-this is supposed to be fun for you-”

“Oh my god,” Margo mutters, and wrenches the phone out of Nic’s hand. “Beck, we’re gonna stay the night here and fly back to Boston in the morning. The three of us can get lunch or something, we have captain questions.”

Nic clears his throat. Margo rolls xir eyes. “Sorry, I have captain questions. Nic is pretending that he’s my assistant and not actually a captain, so he’s going to have deputy questions.”

“Thank you,” Nic mutters. Xe sticks xir tongue out at him. “Is she-”

“Yes, we’re going to be fine,” Margo says. “We’re both adults, cap’n, we can have a responsible and normal night in Miami without anything going wrong. I’ll book our tickets back as soon as I hang up.” Xe pauses for a beat. “Yep. Mmmm-hm. No, I will, it’s fine. Have fun in Boston, we’ll be back tomorrow. You too. Bye.”

“Bye, Beck,” Nic yells. Margo flashes him a smile as xe ends the call. “So we’re staying the night?”

“Sure are.”

“Just two adults having a responsible and normal night?”

“Oh, I wanna go out and party,” Margo says, and Nic grins. “As soon as I book those tickets, we’re going to have a very irresponsible and abnormal night. It’s just Beck, you know?”

“Yeah,” Nic admits. He loves the woman, but he hopes that the Dale can teach her to cut loose. “I’ll look up bars if you look up plane tickets.”

Margo grins. “Deal.”

#

Of course, neither of them are actually party people. But they are loud people, so they end up at a sports bar, shouting at the flootball on the TV. They get drunk - of course they get drunk, it’s not often that they can drink without worrying about a game the next morning - and nearly get thrown out for being belligerent.

They end up wandering through Little Havana as the sun sets. It turns out Margo has been to Miami before, so xe gets to play tour guide. Together they go to a little shop where Margo argues with the clerk in rapidfire Spanish, and they both walk out with mirrored sunglasses that Nic insisted on getting. They go to cafe after cafe, and Margo orders them coffee and pasteles and fried plantains. Xe watches Nic’s face every time he takes a bite, like they’re waiting for a reaction. And really, to xir credit, it’s all damn good food.

They wander around, and then Nic says, “I wanna go to the beach,” and Margo grins and leads the way.

Nic has always known that Margo doesn’t belong in Boston. Xe seems happy enough there, especially with the flowers, but xir whole thing is the island schtick. And xe’s practically incandescent here, shouting compliments at people in Spanish. At one point xe says a whole string of breathless Spanish to Nic, and he doesn’t know what to do so he signs back, “We should do this every season. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you have this much fun before.”

Margo huffs. “No fair,” xe mutters. “I wanna know what that means.”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me what you said.”

“Oh, absolutely not.”

“I like Miami Margo,” Nic says. Margo’s smile softens around the edges. They’re ambling down the beach together, not too close to the water but close enough that everything smells like salt. Miami beaches are different from Boston: warmer, for one thing, but everything feels more alive. Or maybe it’s just that Margo feels more alive. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“Nah, I’m from Boston. And I’m Mexican, not Cuban. But we had family that lived down here for a while, so I visited when I was a kid.” Margo looks out at the ocean and smiles. “We were never supposed to go out to the beach at night when we were kids. Parents always said it was too dangerous.”

“But you still did?”

“Course we did.”

Nic laughs and follows Margo’s gaze to the ocean. They missed sunset by a handful of minutes, but the sky is still purple and that dying, dusky pink of sunsets everywhere. “This is nice,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Worth Beck getting mad at us?”

“Beck’s always mad at us,” Nic says, and Margo snorts. “But yeah, worth that.”

When he looks over, Margo is smiling at him, a little, crooked smile. Nic smiles back. “What?”

“I think it’s worth it too,” Margo says. “Thanks for letting me show you around.”

“Thanks for taking me here.”

“You wanna keep walking?”

“Yeah, let’s-” Nic fumbles a little bit, but he manages to loop his arm through Margo’s so their elbows are linked. Margo laughs in delight. “Okay, I’m good, keep walking me around. Tell me about little Margo sneaking out to the beach after dark.”

“Yeah, okay,” Margo says, and tells story after story after story until the sun is long gone.

They’re up so late they nearly miss their flight, and Beck yells at them both before she gives them hugs, and Nic hates sitting in on captains’ lunch and strategy talk. And every minute of it is still worth it, if only for the way that Margo smiled at him on that beach.

#

The first time they ever played in feedback, Nic nearly passed out.

None of them knew what it meant because it was brand new weather. They all knew about the microphone or whatever, and really, Nic should’ve been ready for something like this. When the microphone descended over Los Angeli he could just about hear it from Boston.

But nothing, _nothing_ compared to when he stepped onto the field and his hearing aids went haywire. It was like someone wrapped his brain in barbed wire and lit it on fire. It wasn’t even a sound anymore, it was something beyond that, something--

It went away in his right ear first. That was enough for him to start coming back to himself. When he opened his eyes he was lying on the ground in the dugout, curled up. Beck was leaning over him, hands near his head. She asked something, he saw her lips move, but the additional sound hurt, and he screwed his eyes shut.

This time he could feel her fingers carefully running over his left hearing aid. She’d done this once or twice before, normally when he got too drunk at party time and lost some of his fine motor skills. And Beck was just the kind of person who would look up ways to turn off her teammates’ hearing aids. Of course she knew.

As soon as she switched it off the noise went away. Nic let out a breath and relaxed all at once, head thumping against the ground. “I don’t like feedback,” he said. Beck said something in response, and he shook his head. “I’ve got nothing, captain, I’m not even sure it was you that said anything.”

Beck frowned. And then she lifted her hands and signed, cautiously, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Nic groaned. He pushed himself up on his elbows. “Permission to phone it in today, captain?” She nodded, and he sat up a little more. “Good, because it’s gonna be real hard to talk to me on the field like this.”

Beck smiled and then tilted her head. She lifted her hands, looking uncertain.

Nic knew that uncertainty. It was the look of someone who was never expecting to need more than the most cursory basic sign language. “If you can finger-spell, I can get the gist.”

“Thanks,” Beck signed. And then, agonizingly, one letter at a time: “Be careful.”

“Course,” Nic said. “You know me. Always careful.”

And he was, after that first mishap. He triple-checked the weather every single game and made sure his aids were switched off during feedback. He brought index cards and a pen with him, just in case something urgent happened and someone needed to write him notes.

Margo wrote him a lot of notes, actually. Xe brought xir own index cards so Nic didn’t have to use all of his. A lot of xir notes were game updates, scores and cool plays and the occasional strategy note. But a lot of them were games of tic-tac-toe and dots and boxes, things that they did together to pass the time so Nic didn’t get too bored in the dugout without conversation.

Beck, for her part, learned a little more sign language. She also developed a few simple hand signs to use on the field on top of the standard Flowers signs. They never actually helped much, not that Nic ever told her that. But it was a sweet gesture.

And then, two months after the feedback started, Nic heard something.

It was a pure tone, like a musical note, resonating in both his ears. He frowned and fiddled with one of his aids - still switched off, so that wasn’t it. And nobody else was reacting, so it couldn’t have been an actual sound in the air.

He didn’t figure it out until a couple minutes later. He knew about feedback swaps, but knowing about it was nothing compared to all of reality flickering in front of him, everything wavering at once and then settling back into a slightly different shape. Nothing compared to looking up and realizing that Vito was wearing a Tacos jersey now.

After the game, he pulled Beck aside, just for a minute. “I heard it coming,” he said, as quietly as he could manage. “I think when the feedback activated it went through my hearing aids.”

Beck just looked at him, exhaustion plain on her face. “Could you tell who?”

“No.”

“Could you tell when?”

“Not exactly.”

She rubbed at her eyes. “Okay,” she said. “Okay. If you figure something out, tell me. And don’t tell anyone else, we don’t need conspiracies or rumors.”

“Got it, captain.”

He never did figure it out, which is even worse than the incineration thing. This time he can actually hear it coming, and there’s nothing he can do about it. Sometimes reality flickers, and the players all have to take a moment and look to see what’s changed. Nic’s order is always the same: he looks down at the jersey he’s wearing, he looks over at Beck, he looks at Margo, and he looks at the rest of the team one by one.

One day they’re playing the Dale and it flickers. When he looks, he’s still wearing a Flowers jersey. When he looks at where Beck was, Hahn Fox is standing there instead.

Yeah. That’s the worst one so far.

#

Season seven gets off to a rough start.

Margo takes it hard, even though xe’s trying to put on a brave face. But it’s too much change at once. The Flowers have never played without Beck before, much less against her. Margo and Nic spend a lot of sleepless nights figuring out strategies involving Hahn in the field, and then they wake up on election day to find out that Hahn’s gone. And there’s no new weather, but the fans successfully brought someone back from the dead, which is equally concerning in Nic’s book.

So it’s a rough start. But Nic knows better than anyone that if the captain’s upset, the whole team is upset. So he has a new mission: make sure Margo isn’t upset.

This mission takes a lot of different forms. He throws a party when they win their first home game of the season. He runs practice a couple times so Margo has a chance to catch a break. He turns the social energy up to ten and tries to keep the team upbeat.

He also spends more time around Margo. At first it’s a strategy thing. Most of it goes over Nic’s head, but he makes a real effort for Margo’s sake. And then he makes a real effort and brings beers with him for afterwards, because he needs it afterwards. And then Margo starts asking about the beer earlier and earlier, and before long they’re just shooting the breeze.

And it’s nice, actually. Margo has a lot of stories about family in Miami and El Paso and Las Vegas, and xe seems more than happy to share those stories. Nic doesn’t have as many stories, but he talks about the sports bar that his family owns and growing up there, and the efforts of trying to keep kosher when half of what they serve is cheeseburgers and hot dogs.

They start making inside jokes in practice, and grabbing lunch together before games. Margo’s in a better mood. It takes Nic a while to realize it, but he’s in a better mood too. It’s not that he was unhappy before, but it’s better having someone to talk to, someone who understands. It’s better… well, it’s just better having Margo.

Nothing’s forever in blaseball, but Nic kind of hopes this lasts a while.

#

It’s the bottom of the first against the Millennials. It’s a normal game - or, well, a normal game in a solar eclipse, which is only so normal to begin with. The Mills score in the first inning, but the Flowers have the home advantage, and Nic’s in a good mood. The whole team is today.

Margo strikes out and jogs back to the dugout. Xe bumps shoulders with Nic as he’s heading up to the plate, a ritual that Nic doesn’t remember starting, a ritual that he hopes they never lose. Nic gets to home plate. The first pitch is a ball. Felix winds up for the second pitch.

And then Nic hears… something.

It actually takes him a second to place the noise because he hasn’t heard it in person in a very long time. In fact, he hasn’t heard it in person since Hurley. And then he realizes what it is. It’s the windup before a fireball.

Time slows to a crawl. Nic turns. There’s a rogue umpire between first and second base. It’s not looking at him. In the split second that Nic has to process what’s going on, he is relieved that it’s not looking at him.

Instead, the umpire whips around to third base and incinerates Wesley Dudley.

Nic always forgets how quiet it gets, the stretch of moments where everybody’s brain scrambles to make sense of what just happened. They’re all staring at third base, at the total absence of a person there. Nic’s heart is pounding.

Finally, Nic manages to pull his eyes away to look at the mound. “Gimme an easy one,” he calls. Felix snaps to attention, just enough to lob a nice, easy ball towards Nic. He hits it straight to Solis, who barely has to move to catch it. “Three outs.”

“Three outs,” Solis calls back. Nobody says anything else as the Mills all huddle together on the field, all of them drawn towards third base like magnets. Nic knows this feeling, far too intimately. He knows that he’s not a part of this.

So instead he jogs back to the dugout. The Flowers are all standing up, watching him. Margo’s standing by the entrance, eyes wide.

“Hey,” Nic calls. He slows to a stop a couple feet away from xem, and xir eyes travel up and down his body in disbelief. He knows that feeling. Xe’s looking for scorch marks. “It’s fine, I wasn’t-”

“Shut up,” Margo says, and hauls him in by the shoulders. Nic stumbles a little bit in his surprise, but he accepts the hug with grace, winding his arms around Margo’s waist.

“Nothing happened,” Nic says, just barely muffled by Margo’s shoulder. “All good, Captain Nava.”

Xir arms tighten around his shoulders. “I said shut up,” xe mutters. And honestly, Nic is content to stand there until the umps start making threatening gestures. But even the rogue ones have gotten better about giving teams a minute after incinerations. He knows that they have time for this.

Nobody else on the Flowers offers to hug him - except Castillo, which Nic very politely declines, because Castillo is a cactus and Nic isn’t up for navigating that today. But he gets a lot of shoulder-pats and back-slaps, which is the same kind of thing.

Eventually, the Mills make it back to their dugout. Nic thinks he sees a new person waiting there for them. He hangs back, watching the Flowers filter out to the field. It takes him a minute to realize that Margo’s hanging back with him. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Margo says, and then pauses. “Actually, no.”

“Told you I’m fine, cap.”

“Don’t do the captain thing right now.”

Nic sighs and turns to face xem head-on, planting his hands on xir shoulders as he goes. “Margarito,” he says, and Margo visibly swallows. “Look at me. I’m here. You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

“I haven’t lost anyone yet. Not as captain.”

“And you’re not going to.”

“You don’t know-”

“Of course I don’t know that,” Nic scoffs. “Of course I don’t, come on. But you saw Beck. You saw what it was like for her, thinking every single game was going to be someone’s last. That rips a person up. You need to be ready for the worst, but that doesn’t mean you should assume it every time.”

Margo offers up a shaky smile. “You sure that you shouldn’t be captain? You give a hell of a pep talk.”

“We make a good team,” Nic says, and Margo’s smile blooms into something brighter, more solid. “Let’s get into the outfield, come on. We’ll talk more later.”

“Yeah,” Margo says. Xe sounds relieved. “Later.”

#

For all of Margo’s jokes about Nic being the people person, there’s a little bit of truth to it. Margo’s a good team leader, a very organized person, and the kind of person people can rally behind. But that’s not the same thing as being personable.

Nic, though, Nic’s the kind of guy people want to grab lunch with. Case in point: about six weeks after she joins the team, Nic invites Alaynabella Hollywood out to lunch, and she accepts on the spot.

Now, he’s the first to admit that the Flowers are a little… cagey when it comes to new people. It’s partly because of the turnover rate, and the fact that they’ve lost a lot of people. But it’s also that most of them are a very particular kind of introverted. They like things to stay the same. They don’t know how to handle change.

But it’s been six weeks, and someone needs to check in on the new girl. So they end up at a pho restaurant before a game one day.

“Tell me how you’re settling in,” Nic says.

Hollywood shrugs and stirs her pho. “I miss Hellmouth more than I was expecting,” she admits. “Kind of hard to get used to things here.”

Nic nods sympathetically. “Yeah, I bet. Beck and I have talked a lot about her being in Miami now. I think she’s getting used to it, but…”

“But getting used to it isn’t the same as being used to it,” she finishes. “Yeah.”

“I can give you Beck’s number if you want. She probably has files somewhere on how to be friends with each of us.”

Hollywood snorts. “I could use that,” she mutters. Nic feels a little guilty; it’s probably hard going somewhere brand new and then not being able to fit in fully. Maybe he should’ve offered sooner. “The two of you are close?”

“Oh, yeah, she’s one of my best friends.”

“Did you help her with captain stuff too?”

Nic shudders. “No way. Beck had that leadership stuff on lock. She was our coach and our captain. She took on a lot of stuff by herself.”

“Which is why you have two captains now?”

“I’m captain now because Margo wanted help.”

“Right,” Hollywood says.

And it’s a completely innocent comment, but the way she says it is loaded. Nic frowns. “What?”

“You two are close,” she says, another completely neutral statement except for the way she’s looking at him. “And you spend a lot of time together.”

“Yeah, because we’re co-cap-” Hollywood points at him, and Nic lifts a hand like he’s trying to shield himself from it. “Because I’m deputy captain,” he says pointedly. Hollywood rolls her eyes, but she lets it slide. “We have to work closely together.”

“You do,” Hollywood agrees. “I’m just saying.”

“What are you saying?”

“You know.”

“I don’t think I do.”

“That’s fine,” Hollywood says, even though Nic gets the distinct impression that he’s missing something. “Just - xe was really worried during that Mills game. You weren’t in the dugout, you didn’t see, but there was a second where we couldn’t tell if it was you or not.”

“It wasn’t me.”

“It was you until we knew for sure it wasn’t,” she answers, and Nic gets it. It’s the same system he does: you check for the people closest to you first. In the dugout it’s probably easy to tell who is and isn’t there. In the dugout looking at the field, on the other hand… “It’s just something you should know.”

“Thanks,” Nic says. He’s not completely sure what he’s thanking her for, but he can feel the puzzle pieces sliding together in the back of his mind. There’s something here that makes sense. He just hasn’t seen it yet. “So did you find an apartment that’s lion-friendly? Or are you still trying to sneak him into hotels?”

Hollywood glares. “Who told you about that?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It matters!”

“I’m not judging you, I’m just checking in.”

“Elvis is very well behaved,” she mutters. “I did find an apartment that lets me have a lion, thank you for checking.”

“You should introduce him to the rest of the team, I bet that’ll go great.”

“I should,” she says thoughtfully. “If I threw a housewarming party-”

“I’ll make sure everyone’s there,” Nic promises. “You’re a Flower now, and it’s about time everyone started acting like it.”

Hollywood smiles at him. “Thank you,” she says. And even though Nic’s still a little preoccupied with the puzzle in the back of his mind, he smiles back at her like everything makes perfect sense.

#

This is the piece that solves the puzzle:

Two thirds of the way through the season, Nic gets blooddrained. It’s terrible, and the less said about it the better. A couple of their players have been blooddrained before, but none of them ever really talk about it. He asked Jacob about it once and the poor guy refused to say anything.

Nic kind of understands now, because… well, he actually doesn’t know how to describe what happened. All he knows is that afterwards he feels like garbage. They lose the game and he just stays in center field, swaying where he stands.

Hollywood seems to understand, because she comes over and loops one of his arms around her neck. “Let’s get you inside,” she says, and he’s too tired to argue. She’s apparently tough as hell, because she all but carries him into the locker room.

Margo jumps to xir feet once they’re inside. “Are you-”

“Fine,” Nic says. He’s a little dizzy, but it’s the truth. “Could use some water.”

“I can-”

“You sit with him, Moses and I will get snacks,” Hollywood says. Nic half expects Margo to argue or to try and assert captainly authority, but instead xe just nods and wraps one of xir arms around Nic’s waist. Hollywood lets Nic go and pats his bicep. “You’re gonna be fine. It’s just like donating blood.”

“Never done that.”

“You just need cookies and juice,” Moses says brightly. They tap Hollywood’s elbow. “C’mon, let’s raid a vending machine.”

Hollywood nods and heads out, waving over her shoulder as Moses trails behind. Margo glances at Nic. “Wanna sit?”

“Yeah,” Nic admits. “My legs are a little shaky.”

“Got it.” Margo steers them over to a bench and lowers Nic down carefully. “You feeling okay?”

Nic lets out a long breath. “I hope that doesn’t happen again.”

“Me too.”

“And I hope it doesn’t happen to you.”

Margo snorts. “Between this and that near miss of an incineration, I think you’d better worry about yourself first.”

“No,” Nic says. He can’t say why, but he’s indignant. Woozily indignant. “Because you’re so busy captaining that you worry about everything, so I get to worry about you.”

“Do you now?”

“Course I do. I’m-” he pauses. There’s a strange tinny noise in one of his ears, a low whine. The kind of feedback that he knows how to handle. “My hearing aid’s being weird.”

“Which one?”

“Left side. Side near you.”

“Hold still,” Margo says. Carefully, xe climbs to xir feet and shifts over to Nic’s right side. Xir arm settles around his waist, and Nic is too tired not to do what he wants, so he drops his head onto Margo’s shoulder. With his left side open, he reaches up and starts adjusting the hearing aid. Margo makes an approving noise. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Nic says. “Thanks.”

“See?”

“See what?”

“See, I get to worry about you.”

“You can do whatever you want, and I couldn’t possibly stop you.” Nic pauses. “But I’m gonna worry about you instead. Just in case.”

He finishes adjusting his aid and sits up a little straighter. Almost automatically, he turns to Margo, who’s already looking at him. There’s a strange little smile on xir face, barely a quirk of the lips, and xe says, “Feeling better?”

And he feels better just from sitting down, but it helps that Margo’s here. It helps that they get a quiet moment here. He’s used to these moments in either of their apartments, at hole-in-the-wall cafes, but normally if they’re at the stadium they don’t get to be alone together. And it’s good. It feels right. It feels-

“Yeah,” Nic says. Now that he’s put it together, it’s like there’s a giant blinking neon sign in front of him. One that says in giant, all-caps, rainbow letters, YOU ARE IN LOVE WITH MARGARITO NAVA. He can’t believe he went so long without noticing. “Yeah, better.”

“Good,” Margo says. “You look a little less… grey.”

“Grey?”

“In the face.”

“My face isn’t grey.”

“Yeah, that’s why I was worried.”

Nic snorts. “Thanks,” he says, and he hopes that it isn’t too much, and he hopes that it’s enough.

Something in Margo’s face changes, and xe opens xir mouth, but the locker room door bangs open. “I hope you like apple juice,” Hollywood shouts.

Nic sighs, and Margarito laughs at how very put-upon he sounds. “I can live with apple juice,” he answers, and it’s normal, or at least close enough.

#

They keep having strategy meetings, even though a lot of Nic’s strategies are about getting them to party time faster. He keeps trying to pitch Margo on the idea of losing games on purpose. “There’s that new enhanced thing,” he says, more than once. “It’s going to help us, we should try and get it.”

“You can try,” Margo says, in a way that says xe’s clearly laughing at him. “We’ll see how it goes.”

They still set the record. But Nic’s not worried about Margo. No more than normal, at least, because Nic knows how to help Margo through the worry.

Then the partying starts. It happens to King first, and he seems in high spirits. Weirdly high spirits. And then it keeps happening, and no two people seem to experience it the same way. Dunn goes jogging after, which she never does. Gloria keeps making these strange humming noises. Nic is… well, he’s excited. He wants to see what this does for them.

After about a week, it happens to Margo.

Nic can tell right away. They’re in the outfield when xe gasps, loud enough that Nic can hear. When he glances over there’s half a second where he could swear that xe’s glowing, and xe lets out a little breathless laugh as xe meets Nic’s eyes.

“Okay?” Nic calls, even though he knows the answer.

“Amazing,” Margo replies. Xe’s grinning, and Nic can’t help but grin back. “This is unbelievable, Nic, you gotta try it sometime.”

“I should be so lucky,” Nic calls back, and Margo laughs out loud. It reminds him of Miami. It reminds him of neon signs.

They lose the game, but Nic’s pretty sure that winning isn’t the point anymore. The point comes afterwards, when half their team is partying, and Jacob and Hollywood are chatting about something, and Margo turns to Nic with sparkling eyes and says, “Let’s go out on the town.”

“In Houston?”

“Have you ever been?”

“Not as a tourist.”

“Me neither,” Margo says. “Let’s find somewhere cool.”

Together they take a light rail downtown and wander around until they find a greasy little sandwich spot that looks good, and then a cider mill, and then a couple bakeries. Margo talks to nearly everyone xe sees, employees and customers and random people on the street. Xe introduces everyone to Nic and says that they’re tourists. 

One woman actually recognizes him. “Can you really hear incinerations coming?” she asks, and Nic just laughs.

They don’t get back to their hotel until late, and even then Nic can tell that Margo’s still going to be awake all night. So he says, “Wanna order pizza and watch bad movies?”

“Please,” Margo says in relief, almost before Nic is done. “Can you make sure they have-”

“Thin crust and white sauce, yeah, I know.”

Margo positively beams at him. “Thank you,” xe says, and Nic’s never been one for getting butterflies, but this is something entirely different. It feels like Margo is something ethereal right now. And xe’s looking at Nic like… well, like that.

“You head on up to your room,” he says, because if he doesn’t get a second by himself he’s going to lose his mind, or do something stupid. “I’ll check in with the front desk and see if they have local menus.”

“Sounds good,” Margo says. “See you in a few?”

“In a few,” Nic agrees. Margo smiles one more time and then brushes xir fingers against Nic’s shoulder as xe heads to the elevator. Nic has to stop and take a few deep, cleansing breaths and think some nice, platonic thoughts before heading up to the concierge.

“You and your partner are so cute,” the clerk says.

Okay, maybe that’s a sign from the universe.

“Xe’s pretty great,” Nic answers. “We were looking for some pizza, do you have recommendations?”

“Yeah, let me get you some menus.”

It only takes a minute before Nic heads back up to Margo’s room. He already has a key, so he lets himself in and tosses the menu straight at xir bed. “Tell me what you want, I can make the call whenever.”

“Nic,” Margo says. When he turns, xe’s sitting up on the bed, menu in xir lap. “Thank you for sticking with me.”

“Tonight was a lot of fun, don’t sweat it.”

“No, not that, the whole season.”

“We’re teammates, that’s what we do.”

Margo shakes xir head. “You didn’t want to be co-captain,” xe says, and there’s a serious note to it that makes him stop and pay attention. “But you’ve been the reason this team isn’t just… depressed. You still kept us afloat this whole season. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Nic sits down at the edge of the bed. “You don’t have to know,” he answers. “Not right now. Hopefully not ever.”

“Hopefully not ever,” Margo echoes. Nic can see that the party energy is wearing off, that xe’s coming back down, but xe still smiles at him, and it’s still incandescent. “Deputy captain.”

Nic waves xir off. “Come on, we both know I’m co-captain. About time that I stopped pretending otherwise. I know what I want here.”

“Yeah?”

“Course I do.”

Margo shifts around so xe’s sitting next to Nic. One of xir knees brushes against his, not quite pressed against it, but close enough. “What do you want?”

Nic turns to face xem, and to get a good look in xir eyes. It’s not like earlier. There’s still an energy in the air, but Nic’s not sure he can blame it on party time anymore. Margo looks clear-eyed, but xe’s holding xir breath.

Carefully, he turns and rests his hand on Margo’s hip. “Are you in your right mind?”

“I didn’t drink that much cider.”

“You were flying pretty high after today’s game.”

Margo grins, but it has a mischievous tilt to it. “You wanna help bring me back to earth?”

Nic laughs and leans in. Margo meets him halfway and kisses him.

#

It’s perfect.

No, really, it’s the perfect setup. There’s no pressure about playoffs or anything. There’s the weather, sure, but there’s always the weather, and they can deal with it. And on top of everything, they get the enhanced party time. More and more teams join them, and Nic and Margo start fielding a lot of calls from other players asking if it’s normal to feel like they just took a hit of cocaine.

Nic actually gets hit by the party time towards the end of the season. He’s in the dugout when it feels like he gets hit by lightning. He jumps to his feet. Half the players turn and look at him, but when he turns Margo’s still sitting, grinning. “Partying?”

“Partying,” Nic says. “This is… insane.”

“Yeah,” Margo agrees. There’s something incredibly soft in xir eyes as xe smiles up at him. “You wanna do something after the game?”

“I would love to,” Nic says. “Once I can feel all my toes again.”

“Toes don’t come back till the next day,” Jacob says helpfully. “At least, they didn’t for me.”

Nic gives him a thumbs-up. When he looks, Margo is hiding a laugh behind xir hand.

Things with Margo are also perfect. They already spent all their time together doing captain-y things - and the first time Nic referred to himself as a co-captain half the team started yelling that it took him long enough - but now the captain-y things get to involve wining and dining and romance. And even that feels like it’s not a change in content as much as a change in tone.

Nic feels lucky. It’s been a long, long time since he felt lucky.

He sits down next to Margo in the dugout. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Margo says. “You good? It’s a hell of a drug.”

“Yeah, I’m great. We should go swing dancing.”

“Why swing dancing?”

“It’s something we can do together. And I need to get this energy out somehow.”

Margo smiles, looking pleased. Xe adjusts xir position so xir side is pressed up against Nic, knee to hip to shoulder. “We can find a place,” xe promises. “It sounds fun.”

“I’ve never done it before.”

“Me neither, so I won’t be any better than you.”

“I guarantee that you’ll be better than me.”

Margo waves him off. “That’s not the point.”

“No,” Nic agrees, and Margo grins at him. “It’s not.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


EPILOGUE

  
  


Hlomecoming is a terrifying affair. For one thing, Nic’s not one for formal events, and he knows that Margo isn’t either. For another, nearly every player in the league is going to be descending on Dallas for this thing.

But it’s also exciting. They have a siesta next week, and everyone’s abuzz talking about plans and events and all the sleep they’re going to catch up on. Everyone on the Flowers has family to visit, personal projects to do. They’re all in good spirits: not only did they make the playoffs, they didn’t lose anyone. By some miracle, for two seasons in a row, they all made it. They got out lucky for once.

So they go to Hlomecoming. Margo wears a tux that makes Nic’s eyes hurt, but xe looks gorgeous in it. Nic’s wearing his best formal-casual shirt and slacks. It’s like a giant ILB reunion, watching everyone mill around and talk to each other, but of course he only wants to talk to-

“Captains!” Beck shouts. Nic and Margo turn around in sync, and she’s striding towards them, wearing a very Beck-like gown with a very un-Beck-like neckline and some truly impressive platform heels.

“Ump-killer!” Nic shouts back, and a couple cheers go up in the crowd around them. “Our hero walking among us!”

She laughs as she pulls both of them in for a hug, one arm around each of their necks. She settles her chin in between their shoulders. “I hope everyone gets the chance to do that,” she murmurs. “It kind of feels like justice.”

“I’ll bet,” Margarito mutters. “How’ve you been?”

“Margo, you called me yesterday.”

“Things change!”

“Yeah, Beck, things change,” Nic adds. Beck pulls back to give him an unimpressed look, but he just shrugs. “Maybe I wanna know how you are.”

“You also called me yesterday.”

Nic shrugs again. Beck swats him on the shoulder. “I’m just happy to see you guys,” she says. “I mean, everyone, all the Flowers, but-”

“But we’re captains,” Margo finishes. “You look better.”

Beck smiles. Nic thinks that if this were the Beck he played with for years, she would be fiddling with her hair or the hem of her dress, but her hands are still. Her shoulders aren’t as tense. “It’s different in Miami,” she says. “But I think it’s good for me. You guys should come visit sometime.”

Nic glances at Margo. He can tell xe’s thinking the same thing: they have a couple vacations lined up, and one of them is a good three weeks in Miami together. They’re not going to tell Beck right away, because they want some time to themselves, but part of their vacation time is intended to be with her. They picked it because they thought Beck would need help relaxing, but clearly she’s doing better than they thought.

“We’ll let you know,” he answers. “But for now, are you ready to finally party?”

“Finally,” she laughs. She still has one hand on each of their shoulders, and she squeezes. “We’re gonna have a good time tonight.”

“Yeah, we are,” Margo argees. Xe grabs Nic’s hand, and he automatically twines his fingers with xirs. “Let’s do it.”

“Let’s do it,” Nic echoes. Blaseball doesn’t give him a lot of chances to have a good time just for good times’ sake. So he’s going to take advantage of every second of this.

**Author's Note:**

> and it's heartfelt like ice melts / [when winter turns to spring](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9C1flskssaQ) / and i keep your pictures like a hoarder / i think about you when i sing
> 
> I'm @waveridden on Tumblr/Twitter, come say hi!


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